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User blog:Ranthar Wane/Renaissance 1
Well, since I get bored easily over break and hit a bit of a wall on my primary writing project, I threw this together. I'll probably put it up in three parts, to accomodate the three main aspects of this pointless expansion to my FF character. Wayne thumbed back the front cover of Myst, exposing a black rectangular space covering the upper part of the first page within the small book. Wayne ran his fingers along the sides of the cover, then the open page, careful to not make contact with the darkened box. “So many dead, so many destroyed for this…” he murmured as his right hand finally dropped away from the aged pages of the volume. He fed the book a small amount of mystic energy, releasing a ward he had placed upon the tome himself in order to attempt blocking the unique qualities of the art. Light skimmed the floor as the title on the cover flared slightly as the energy flowed into the piece of art. Then, like a blooming flower in spring, the darkness of the box on the page exploded into color and motion, as if it had become some sort of a portal that looked out upon a bustling universe. The age had awakened. Raising his hand, Wayne hesitated, his fingertips mere centimeters from the skin of the paper. Was it truly wise to attempt this once more? Throwing caution to the wind, Wayne firmly planted his open hand over the ever changing images shown by the viewer on the book. And without a flash, or any other visible sign, he was gone, book and all. It took Wayne a moment to realize he was floating in space. With a Curse, he swiftly crafted a platform beneath himself, generating a gravitational field to hold him to it whilst he examined his surroundings. When last he had travelled to this age, the linking book had taken him to a beautiful forest at the edge of a vast sea. Now gone. The whole planet that had once been the object of this linking book was broken into pieces, some the size of a continent, and others mere grains of sand. Careful, Wayne tucked the linking book into a bag that he generated at his side. The Ages could be perilous to one who held a linking book, but only if the wrong people knew you carried one. Leaping from rock to barren rock, Wayne negotiated his way to a larger mass some distance away. Unlike the others, this one somehow had light emanating from the far side of it. Running swiftly and lightly, breaking the laws of this Ages’ physics as needed, Wayne arrived at the edge of the halo in a matter of a few minutes. Waiting a moment to allow his eyes to adjust, Wayne peered into the lit area. Then, with a smile, he strode openly into the brightly lit home compound an old friend. Dodging children running through the courtyard of the estate, Wayne flashed smiles at them all, his hood thrown back to expose his now scarred face. The children smiled back as they milled about him, each and every one calling him by names both new and old. In a few minutes, the mothers and caretakers of the small ones had herded the horde away, leaving Wayne free to continue on his way. Nodding to the older men and women conversing in an inner courtyard, Wayne worked his way upward, old memories flooding through him of his time here under his first Mentor’s guidance. Turning at last around an old set of worn steps, Wayne halted in the doorway. “Hail Atrus, keeper and perfecter of the Art.” Wayne said, instantly recognizing a man hunched partway over a massive desk, despite the added years since last they had stood face to face. The other man straightened, turning weary eyes to gaze upon Wayne. With a exclamation, Atrus rushed forward, and for a moment the pair where locked together in the embrace of a estranged father and son. “It is good to see you.” Atrus finally choked out, still gazing at Wayne as if he was some sort of a spectre. Then his face grew grave. “Yet I know you would not be here without purpose. Remember Wayne, your exile is asked and enforced only by you- nobody here blames you for what happened.” Wayne nearly lost his resolve as yet other memories flooded in. “Aye.” He managed to grind out. “I need to learn the Art.” Over the following weeks, Wayne and Atrus spent almost every waking moment going over every last aspect of the Art of writing Kortee'nea and their derivatives. After a few weeks of intensive work, Wayne knew it was time to move on to the next step of his education. Bidding Atrus and his people farewell, the Wanderer planted his hand firmly on the image projected upon his linking book. An image of his own study. As Wayne stood there, the same location he had left originally, he closed the Myst book carefully. Glancing at the clock he noted once more than dimensional time streams are anything but parallel. Tucking the book into some place in his cloak, Wayne strode over to his writing desk and began work in earnest. That fortnight of effort had only been the first of three steps, and each harder than the last. “A lonely God and a Hunter. What a lovely pair to choose from…” Category:Blog posts Category:Blog posts